Just One Tear
by Sith Happens
Summary: In answer to a challenge given to me by the author space raider. I explain a little better inside... slashiness, rated M for that and the beloved f-bomb


-1**A/N: I was given a challenge by the wonderful writer BDS fanfiction writer space raider to write a slashy fic between the brothers based on the lyrics to Faith Hill's "Cry." It took me a good long while to figure out what I would do, and maybe this isn't what space raider was expecting, but I sure as hell hope I get at least a B for effort. I also took a little bit from an idea/story that another BDS fanfiction writer had, and I hope she doesn't kill me for it (You know who you are, Nick! Please don't kill me!) Hope everyone enjoys!**

**Hugs, -Sithy**

**PS - I had to put a teddy bear in the story too **

--

_If I had just one tear  
Running down your cheek  
Maybe I could cope  
Maybe I'd get some sleep  
If I had just one moment at your expense  
Maybe all my misery  
Would be well spent...yeaaaa_

Could you cry a little  
Lie just a little  
Pretend that your feeling a little more pain  
I gave now I'm wanting  
Something in return  
So cry just a little for me

If your love could be caged, honey, I would hold the key  
And conceal it underneath the pile of lies you handed me  
And you'd hunt and those lies  
They'd be all you'd ever find  
And that'd be all you'd have to know  
For me to be fine

And you'd cry a little  
Die just a little  
And baby I would feel just a little less pain  
I gave now I'm wanting  
Something in return  
So cry just a little for me

Give it up baby  
I hear your goodbye  
Nothin's gonna save me  
I see it in your eyes  
Some kind of heartache  
Darlin give it a try  
I don't want pity  
I just want what is mine

Yeah.. Could you cry a little  
Lie just a little  
Pretend that you're feeling a little more pain  
I gave now I'm wanting  
Something in return  
So cry just a little for me

Cry just a little for me  
Could you cry just a little for me?

--

Murphy hated what was happening. For the last month his brother had been sneaking off and not telling him or their Ma where he was going. Connor would show up late at night and crawl into bed with Murphy, kissing his shoulder before snuggling in like a lover returned home. And in truth, he was just that, a lover sliding smooth and sensuous against Murphy's skin in the dead of night, when their mother was passed out drunk in her room far down the hall. And Murphy delighted in every touch, every soft, firm, tender, sloppy, dominating kiss of it, and eagerly reciprocated every act in kind.

It had been that way since they were sixteen, and they were almost eighteen now. Almost two years of being on-again, off-again lovers, since their hormones and tension reached a breaking point. It was only natural that after sneaking (but not really sneaking in an Irish family) a few beers from the Anvil, a few shots of whiskey each, that their desires, their bodies, their mouths, their hands, their hips all fell in sync with one another. It became a habit, a tradition when they got wasted beyond recognition. Then it became more. Stone sober they longed for each other, the pleasure, the comfort they brought to one another. And though they shared an equal amount of the same desire, Murphy loved when Connor was the more aggressive one.

But of course, in those two years there were times when both brothers would lie awake at night and wonder to themselves and each other about their secret sin. There was serious repenting to do, but both knew in their hearts that the other never let a word of repentance fall from their lips, slick with saliva from the other's tongue. Long stretches would pass, at least long to Murphy, where they would not be found in each others' arms in the darkness, where both beds in the room were employed and the brothers slept facing away from each other. Yet in the end, they always fell back together, because it hurt too much to be apart.

What had been going on the last month though, was something entirely new. Murphy would wake up early in the morning to the sounds of Connor leaving their bed, dressing and sneaking out of the house. And he would pretend to be asleep when Connor came home around midnight, only showing up at the house once or twice for a meal during the day before scampering off again. At first, Murphy just accepted it, believing his twin was just being weird and would come back to his senses soon. But when a week and a half passed of the same thing, Murphy began to worry.

It hurt like a knife in the heart that Connor was keeping something from him, not sharing everything like they always had, and it hurt even worse that Connor wasn't recognizing his pain. Murphy was a man, he couldn't come right out and say that his feelings were being hurt, couldn't whine to his brother that they were supposed to be lovers, brothers, twins and that meant being open with each other. But Connor just came and went as often as he pleased, no matter the hour or the circumstances. At one point, they had been kissing, curled up under the blankets, fingers brushing over bare skin when Connor suddenly cursed, claimed he needed to be somewhere and just left.

Murphy loved his brother more than anything, even his beloved religion that told him he shouldn't. But this was tearing him up inside. He worried that Connor was maybe seeing someone else, which sounded a bit childish and jealous in his own mind, but the thought still persisted. Or maybe Connor just didn't want to be with him any more and was trying to stay away as much as possible. Maybe his twin had decided that the sin between them was too much to bare and would rather not see his face. But what hurt Murphy the most wasn't that he might have lost a lover, but that he had lost his brother, his closest friend, his twin who was the other half of his soul… and that Connor didn't seem to see it, didn't seem to know or care the pain that Murphy was going through. One sympathetic look, one sorrowful explanation would have eased him, but none came.

And it was the last straw when Connor left one day and didn't show back up. Their mother had gone out of town to visit relatives on the other side of Ireland, leaving the brothers to their own devises. Murphy thought he may have a chance to figure out what had been going on, sit Connor down and find out what was up. But Connor seemed anxious for their mother to leave, and she hadn't been gone but an hour before Connor left behind her. That had been three days ago, without one word to Murphy about where he was going before he left or a phone call to say what was happening or if he was alright. During those three days, Murphy's pain and temper had done nothing but stir.

So when Connor showed up on the fourth day, just waltzing into the house like nothing was amiss, it was like shooting a pistol at a closed 55-gallon drum of gasoline… explosive.

"Ye fuckin' bastard," Murphy screamed, pouncing on his twin and letting his fists fly as his own personal homecoming.

The look on Connor's face was a strange mixture of surprise and acceptance, even as Murphy tackled him and damn near broke his jaw. "Murph, please, please, calm the fuck down."

"Calm down," Murphy growled indignantly, viciously. "Calm fucking down! Where the fuck have ye been Connor? What the fuck's been goin' on fer the last fuckin' month?"

"Let me explain, Murph. Just take a breath an' let me explain," Connor cried back, trying to push his twin off him.

Snarling like an animal, Murphy pulled away from him. But the snarl didn't entirely consist of anger, it was also the best way he could think to hide the tears that were trying to leak out of his eyes. "What's been goin' on Connor? Ye've been leaving the house an' comin' home at all hours, then ye fuckin' leave without so much as a word! Ye could've been dead fer all I knew!"

"I've been workin' me ass off the last month, alright," Connor retorted, the anger catching on to him as he stood up slowly, cautious of Murphy tackling him again. "An' I had ta go as soon as Ma left… Murph, I didn't tell ye before 'cause I wasn't sure…"

"What the fuck couldn't ye tell me about," Murphy sneered. "We're fuckin' brothers, we're supposed ta tell each other everything!"

Connor shook his head a bit. "I thought ye might blab."

"Oh, fuck ye, Conn," Murphy spat, giving the nastiest glare he could muster.

"I've been workin' twenty hours a day almost everyday the last fuckin' month ta buy tickets, Murph," Connor finally started to explain. "Tickets fer America."

In that instant Murphy could feel himself choking on his own pulse that had lodged itself in his throat. All the anger fell away from him and was replaced with confusion and sadness. His voice has achingly small and filled with hurt when he replied "Tickets fer America? Are ye leavin', Conn? Are ye leavin' me?"

Connor's jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he took the few steps to be right in front of Murphy, cupping his twins face in his hands. "I said 'tickets,' ye git. Two, one fer each a us."

"What," Murphy asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Don't ye see, Murph," Connor smiled gently at him. "We'll go ta America tagether. No one knows us there, no one'll care what we are ta each other, twins, lovers… Fuck Murph, we could just be tagether an' fuck all else."

Realization dawned on Murphy then. His beloved twin had put himself through hell for a month straight just so they could get out of this place that would call them sinners and pray for their souls to burn. He felt like the biggest ass in the wide world. "Conn, I'm sorry…"

"I knew ye'd be upset with me," Connor continued, taking his hands away from Murphy's face and rummaging through his backpack. "So I got ye somethin' from one a those tourist stores near the ticket place. I know it's cheesy, but when I saw it, I thought a ye…."

Connor pulled put a good-sized emerald green teddy bear, a four-leaf clover sewn onto one hand and a pint of Guinness on the other, with the word "Eire" in white proudly displayed across the thing's chest. Just the sight of it made Murphy want to burst into a fit of giggles. Instead, he grabbed the back of Connor's neck and pressed their lips together, kissing his twin with every ounce of joy and passion he had in him. The stuffed animal was crushed between their bodies as Connor grabbed Murphy's hips and eagerly kissed back.

"I love ye, Murph," the lighter twin whispered against his brother's pale cheek when he paused for a breath. "I'll never disappear like that on ye again."

Murphy kissed him even harder that time, pulling him down on to the couch to give him a proper welcome home.

--

**A/N: Okay, I know the song doesn't really have a happy ending, but I can't, I just can't bring myself to do anything but a happy ending for the twins. They go through so much pain in the movie and even more in some fanfics… I have to make them happy! Hope you'll forgive me…**


End file.
